Pearl Harbor Tribute
by MoonSparrow
Summary: Just a little one shot tribute for Pearl Harbor. A few countries talk with a very down America about what happened on that day in December 70 years ago. My first Hetalia writing on here. T to be safe.


**Sparrow: Hello! I'm MoonSparrow! This is my first Hetalia fanfic thing. I was first introduced to Hetalia sometime last year. Well, sort of recently, I have re-fell in love with it! I plan on writing an actual story for Hetalia one of these days. I'm throwing in this random little introduction of myself because in case some other people who don't usually read my stories are reading this, well, hello! Thank you for reading my story! Anyway, I just thought about writing this for Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day. I realize that it was about a week ago, thus making this very late. I apologize. I need to work on my failure of updating. Um, a few warnings about this. Okay, I think just about all the characters are OOC, so, sorry. I've never written a Hetalia story or anything before, but I'll try to make it work in the future. Also, I accidentally made this a pairing story, in a way. I didn't mean for it to turn out that way, it just kind of slipped out. Oh, and just a warning; there is quite a bit of sighing in this one-shot. Okay, this is getting really long. So, let's begin with my 70****th**** anniversary Pearl Harbor Remembrance Tribute!**

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70th anniversary Pearl Harbor Remembrance tribute (12-7-11)

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Along the north eastern coast of Ford Island in Oahu, Hawaii, a small oil bubble that leaked from the sunken U.S.S. Arizona floated to the surface of the water and burst with a pop.

_The U.S.S. Arizona, _a sad looking blond man sitting on the coast thought, _one of the many that went down that day. _The blond sighed.

This blond had a misted over look in his light blue eyes that could just as clearly be seen even from behind the half-rectangle glasses he wore.

After shaking his head, he drooped it down into his hands, causing some of his sandy blond hair to fall in front of his eyes.

The man froze and looked up at the presence of a light lei being placed around his neck and a gentle voice speaking.

"Alfred, sad eyes don't look right on you, aru."

Alfred F. Jones, the aforementioned blond man, turned to face his new companion.

"Yao, what are you doing here?" Alfred asked his brunette friend, Wang Yao. Yao flicked his single ponytail to behind his shoulder and turned his dark brown-eyed gaze onto Alfred.

I can't come visit my ally on a day of grief, now, aru?" He smiled and gently nudged his blond friend. " After all," the Chinese man continued, "he only did that because you were the only thing in the way of his defeating me."

"Yao, y-your making me sound heroic. I didn't _do_ anything." Alfred's voice quieted and gained a far-off sound to it as he took a breath and continued. "I _couldn't_ do anything."

"Alfred! In a way you, 'took a bullet' for me, aru! For my nation, risking part of your own!" China was getting a defensive edge to his voice.

"No, China." America's tone was downcast and he glanced down and saw another oil bubble pop in the ocean. The nation looked away from the water. "No, all I did was stand in the way. I couldn't even prepare myself for it!" Alfred pounded his fist on the grassy earth that he sat on.

"Alfred, you joined and basically _ended _the war after that, aru!"

"Yeah. I didn't even _try_ to help until after I was _dragged _into the fight. I'm not a hero. I'm a selfish coward. I'm pathetic."

"Alfred F. Jones, aru! You are acting like a child!" China was standing now. "I came to comfort to, America! To make sure you were okay and to thank yo-" The last words were stumbled over as the Chinese man realized that what he was trying to hide had slipped out. Yao cleared his throat, and, with confidence, continued.

"And to thank you, Alfred." As he turned, he wished America a good day. Then, in a steady voice, he said, "I'm sorry, aru." Then just before leaving the young American to himself, China, in a soft voice, added, "Thank you, Alfred." With that, he took of to return home.

Alfred picked up the lei around his neck and held it in front of his face for further inspection. The necklace was a skillfully made strand of brightly dyed and colored flowers strung together. All the flowers were like this, dyed brightly in the corners and faded toward the middle. All except the middle three flowers in the front. The front three were one of a dusty, faded, rose-red color, another as a dim sky-blue color, and one a soft white color. Alfred couldn't help but smile at this.

"Thanks to you, too, China." America muttered to no one.

"China? Who are you talking to, Alfred?" A familiar British accented voice asked, causing America to look behind him and see Arthur Kirkland walking up to him.

"Oh, hey, England." Alfred held up a hand in a frozen wave. He turned back toward the sea as his fellow nation sat down beside him.

"You know, Alfred, there's no use in pitying yourself and your decisions of the past-" America cut England off mid-sentence.

"Yeah, right, like _you_ don't still get upset over the Revolutionary War. Give me a break." America huffed.

There was a short, stiff silence while England shifted uncomfortably. He swallowed and continued.

"What happened, happened, and we cannot change or fix decisions of the we've made in the past. But, we must then try to make the right ones in the future. Sure, I can't stand to even _think_ about … erm, _that_ war sometimes, but I can't just go about moping about it, now, can I?" Arthur smiled.

Alfred sighed and looked over at England. _Maybe he's got something there, _Alfred thought. Finally, a half-hearted smile slipped onto America's face.

"Yeah, I guess you're right, old man." England shook his head and gave a small laugh at this comment. Arthur stood and ruffled America's sandy blond hair.

"Of course I'm right. Well, I've got to attend to some business. Try not to make yourself depressed, alright?"

"Sure, England. And, thanks." America replied.

"Never a problem, America." Arthur began to leave. After a moment of pondering whether or not to say what he wanted to, he did. "And if you need me later, I'll be around."

Alfred noted the smile in England's voice and called back, "Thanks, Arthur."

With that, America was once again sitting alone, staring at the endless sea. He focused on a few seagulls that were circling overhead a couple of miles outward from where the nation sat. Lost in though as his brother walked up silently behind him, the quiet voice startled Alfred.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Canada! Don't startle me like that!" America said, clutching his chest as if to hold onto the heart that now beat a thousand times a second there.

"S-sorry, America! I just came by to see if you were okay." Matthew fumbled in his backpack a moment before he produced a medium sized and circular shaped Tupperware and a fork. He also pulled out a small container of maple syrup.

"I made some pancakes earlier. Would you like some?" Matthew held out the dish, and before he could even reply, Alfred's stomach gave an answer much louder and more clear than words as it bellowed a low rumble, screaming, almost, for food. America blushed slightly and smiled.

"I guess so." Canada laughed and handed his brother the food, which was quickly devoured. It wasn't long before Canada began to leave as well.

"Well, feel better, Alfred. And remember, even if my voice isn't very loud, I can still listen quite well."

"Thanks, Canada." So, then, for the third time that day, the American was left with only his thoughts and the water. Another oil bubble rose to the surface and popped. Alfred sighed again. The ocean pulled America's focus back onto it as a chilly breeze blew through. America shivered in his white t-shirt and began to rub his arms for warmth.

Suddenly, some clothing was draped over him from behind. Before the American could look to see who his new company was, a one Honda Kiku lowered himself to sit next to America.

"You left your jacket at my house a while ago, America-san." Japan answered an unspoken question.

"Oh, er, thanks, bro." Alfred replied awkwardly. Another oil bubble popped. Yet another sigh escaped from America.

"I can't believe that it's still leaking after all this time. Te U.S.S. Arizona was full enough to sail for a long time, I guess." America shook his head and spoke toward the sea. "Seventy years." He faced his Japanese companion.

"It has been seventy years since the bombing of this." Alfred gestured to the area around him. "Of Pearl Harbor."

"Ah, it has been seventy years already, hasn't it?" Japan said. "Though it was terrible and tragic, I'm still a little glad it happened-"

"Japan!" Alfred shouted, sounding shocked and hurt.

"-Because shortly after you helped end the war and we became friends, America-san."

America was taken back by this. Then he smiled.

"Well, Kiku, I guess I can count on you to find the silver lining in anything." Alfred laughed and saw Japan smile, though his eyes had a little sad glimmer to them. America took notice of it and took on a look of concern.

"You okay, Japan?"

"Even though it has been so many years," Kiku began.

"Japan…?"

"I hope that you can still accept it.

"What do you-" Alfred was interrupted.

"I am sorry, America-san."

"…Japan…" Tears brimmed in Alfred's eyes.

"A-Ameri-!" Japan stuttered before he was very fiercely tackle-hugged by his American companion.

"I forgive you!" Alfred said enthusiastically. Squeezing his shocked Japanese friend tighter still, America leaned in closer and whispered,

"Thank you, Japan."

Then, America loosened his hug so that he held Japan at arm's length. Blushing, he realized what he just did, and let go and looked away. "Sorry." America mumbled.

There was a silence in which could the lapping waves be heard from far off. Then,

"Wah! J-Japan, what are you-?" Came Alfred's surprised reaction.

"No, _I_ am sorry, America-san." Softly and gently came Japan's reply. Kiku had hugged Alfred tightly this time.

"What?" Alfred asked confusedly.

"You have been hugging me for years, accepting me, and I never once gave it a chance." Japan hugged tighter, smiling slightly. "Now, it's my turn to give the hug."

"J-Japan?" America stuttered.

"I can understand why you enjoy hugging, America-san. I feel much better now.

America sat there a moment trying to understand what just happened. Then, he felt Japan snuggling closer, a finally it clicked. Alfred smiled and returned the hug. Japan eased up a bit, but still stayed close.

They broke their embrace and sat there, side-by-side on the shore, with America's arm gently around Japans waist.

The two nations sat there until the sun began it's descent from the sky into the sea. As the last rays of sun skidded across the ocean, another oil bubble popped.

"Seventy years." America echoed at this. He raised a fist into the air above his head. "To seventy years and still moving onward." Alfred looked into Kiku's deep, reflective, dark eyes. "And to new friends." Lowering his fist and placing his hands in his pockets, he stood. "Let's go, Japan. It's getting late." Japan stood and began following America, who had started walking away.

"Hey, Japan."

"Yes, America-san?"

"It's a long way back to your house, right? You can stay at my place tonight if you want."

"A-are you sure?" Japan asked a little surprised.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Alfred replied casually.

"O-okay. Yes, I will take you up on that generous offer, America-san."

"Okay." America smiled and placed an arm around Japan's shoulders. "C'mon then, Japan. Let's go home, bro."

Then the two nations walked side by side in the night back to Alfred's house. This was a Pearl Harbor Day that the blond was sure to never forget.

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**Sparrow: Well, finally! It's taken me way too much longer than needed to get this up. Ugh. Oh well. Okay, it is 11:55 at night so; tell me, what did you think? Review? Please? See you soon. Byez! : )**


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